Conflict
by Shila
Summary: Remus doesn't want Sirius the way Sirius wants him, but is it worth tearing his world apart to deny the everdemanding Black? Please read and review! WARNING: NONCONSENSUAL SLASH AHEAD.


_Title: Conflict  
Author: beautifuldorian (Shila)  
Pairing: SB/RL  
Rating: NC-17  
Warning: Non-con handjobs  
Disclaimer: Just because they're voices in my head doesn't mean I own them. In fact, I don't own ANY of the voices in my head. I just write what they tell me to. No offense meant, no profits made, all credits go to J.K. Rowling.  
Summary: Remus doesn't want Sirius the way Sirius wants him, but is it worth tearing his world apart to deny the ever-demanding Black?_

**Conflict**

* * *

"Get -off-, Sirius."

It had to have been the twelfth or so time Remus had said this to his friend, but Sirius didn't seem to pay him any mind at all, sprawled over his friend's bed where the werewolf was trying to write his Astronomy essay. Trying being the operative word; Sirius was annoying in ways no other man, dead or alive, could be, and when he wanted your attention, well, he was damned well going to get it. Remus didn't think he knew a more stubborn, self-important thirteen year old. In fact, he would have laughed had he been told that there -was- anyone more stubborn than Sirius, especially after times like these.

"Come on, Padfoot, those are my -notes- under your smelly arse," Remus sighed, fixing Sirius with a look that said he really should know better. "This is due tomorrow, you know..."

"Yup, I know," Sirius answered cheerfully, a broad grin covering his face as he wriggled to free the notes from under his ass, handing them to Remus. Now that the werewolf was looking at him, Sirius was temporarily content. He could stare into those incredible, almost-gold eyes now... although the incredible color was a bit dimmed by the expression on Remus' face. "Did mine when Sinistra assigned 'em, remember? Always do." The black-haired boy looked smug. He and James were not lauded as being top of their class for nothing. Which is not to say that Sirius was a particularly devoted student; quite the opposite, in fact. But one does not need to study very hard at all when one is blessed with a particular brilliance. That, and he really liked Astronomy, and occasionally even did the assignments for the class.

On the whole, Sirius considered assignments rather superfluous and redundant, and often did the least he could get away with, or blew them off altogether. Occasionally, this pissed Remus off, as Remus did all his assignments, and studied quite hard, but he still had to work very hard for the perfect scores that James and Sirius seemed to pull out of thin air. It sort of sucked, but at least he wasn't as badly off as Peter. Peter, who was with James this very moment, well outside so he couldn't blow anything up. Prongs had ever so kindly agreed to help Wormtail with his Charms work, and, well... things tended to catch on fire when Peter did charms. Things like Flitwick's hair... Remus smiled and shook his head at the memory. Oh, Sirius had laughed himself to tears, and James had tried to conjure water to dump on him but only got apple cider, and Peter had been bloody -mortified-...

Sirius was still watching Remus, gray eyes half-lidded in contentment. He knew the look on Moony's face; he was lost in thought. Sirius let himself think that that little smile on those lips was meant just for him, though he well knew better. Gods, what would Remus even do if he knew? Sirius could hardly imagine. 'Aye, mate, I've had the hots for you since we met, so what say we shag?' Normally, Sirius wouldn't have had a problem saying such a thing right out loud, but this was -Remus-, and Remus was his -friend-, and what if he didn't feel the same, and didn't want to be friends anymore? It was too much to risk, honestly.

Which was why Sirius was here now, sprawled over Moony's bed, as close as he could get under the guise of annoyance, staring up at the werewolf. James had often accused him of being obsessive in their younger years, and Sirius was starting to wonder if Prongs hadn't been correct. All his dreams - and as a thirteen year old boy, those were countless - featured Remus. Sure, he'd still check out the older girls when they walked by, and the thought of fucking them was as pleasing as it had ever been. And yet, when he looked at Remus, there was something more than that lust; it wasn't just his dick drooling over the werewolf. Obsessed, perhaps, might have indeed described it best, but Sirius really didn't want to think he was -obsessed- with his friend. That was just a bit... stalker-ish. It made him shift nervously, because he -had- been sort of stalking Remus; being near him as much as possible, trying to always be square in his view. Sirius was an attention hog to the max, but there was no one's gaze he desired more than Remus'. And now those distant eyes were refocusing, and Sirius put a wide grin on his face as Moony blinked at him.

"Did I..." the werewolf started, sounding a bit curious and a bit resigned.

"Yep. Spaced right out. How's the horsehead nebula look from the other side?" Sirius inquired with a playful wink, stretching out and knocking one of the star-charts to the floor.

"A better view than -you- draped over my essay," Remus muttered, eyeballing Sirius as he retrieved the fallen chart. "Don't you have other people to annoy the crap out of?" Immediately he regretted saying it as two unbelievably large gray eyes fixed on his face. Oh, hells, he couldn't stand it when Sirius gave him those big, pitiful puppy eyes. The look on Padfoot's face was just so... -wounded-, and Remus sighed.

"Am I really that bad?" Sirius asked wistfully, still pouting insufferably.

"No," Remus sighed again, shaking his head. "But sometimes, I think you -try- to be."

Sirius looked a bit relieved at that, and grinned, moods as mercurial as ever. He sat up, raking a hand through the long mass of black hair that hung over his shoulders, and leaned against Remus' side. "'Course I do," he confessed impishly. "'Cause we all know how much I love it when people-"

"When you're the center of attention," Remus interrupted him, having to smile slightly as well. That was Sirius, all drama and actor's faces, manipulative to a tee. And yet Remus still couldn't resent him for it, leaning into Padfoot with a sigh. "Yes, we do indeed know how much of a drama queen you are."

A bark of laughter very close to his ear made Remus wince. "Drama queen!" Sirius crowed, ruffling the honey brown strands of Remus' hair. "That's a good one. No, sorry, if any one of us is a queen, it's probably James. He's such a vain little git, always playing with his hair and worrying about his clothes..."

"Well, yes, but -you- are a right noncing poofter in your own right," Remus returned amiably. When he'd first met James and Sirius, their easy insults had shocked and offended him; he'd taken a while to get used to hearing them constantly put each other down, but after a while he began to hear the affection under the slurs, and by now he was ace at returning them just the way they'd come, though occasionally he did feel a little bit bad about saying mean things to his friends. Of course, they never seemed to care; all four of them teased each other mercilessly whenever they got the opportunity.

However, Remus was not at all prepared for the reaction that that particular insult would elicit from Sirius. Gray eyes clouded over, and Remus remembered how Padfoot's eyes only got that stormy when Padfoot himself was about to storm, and -hooooo- was a Sirius-nova NOT something you really wanted to be within five miles of, much less have directed at you. Remus opened his mouth to retract the comment; some guys were awful tetchy about being called gay, but Sirius had never seemed to give much of a rat's ass when James called him a fruit. But the words that came out of Sirius' mouth were a thousand miles from what Remus was expecting to hear.

"You have no idea how much of a noncing poofter I am," Sirius growled softly, and Remus had a moment to be surprised by the strange tone of his best friend's voice before the black-haired boy leaned in and kissed him. It was not like kisses were supposed to be; it was nothing out of a storybook. It was harsh and possessive and Remus was too surprised to do anything but sit there dumbly. What the hell?! Was Sirius really gay? Remus didn't mind if he was, but he himself certainly wasn't. He was quite sure he liked girls. Did Sirius like -him-? Remus might have been able to understand it if Sirius was merely curious; friends experimented, after all. But something about the way those lips crushed against his said it was very, very different. Finally regaining enough sense to pull away, Remus did so, eyes wide as he stared at Sirius in shock.

"What the bloody hell was -that- about?!" Remus demanded, taking in the darkness in those gray eyes. It was a different storm from the one he'd seen there before, he realized; this wasn't anger, but desire. Need. Something hungry, and deep, that rotted from the inside. He knew what it was. He'd lived most of his life with that sort of darkness creeping under the edges. But he was a werewolf. He had an -excuse-. What was Sirius'? Well, okay, he was a Black, but... Remus was quite frazzled, thoughts racing all over the place as he stared, dumbfounded, at Padfoot.

A slight frown creased Sirius' lips. What had he gone and done -that- for? Now Remus was totally going to freak out. Shit. Shit shit! The little voice that occasionally offered advice piped up then, urging him to apologize and write it off, because Remus -really- didn't look as though he'd appreciated that, but there was another whisper in his ear, a part of his mind that told him just how beautiful Remus looked with those wide, startled eyes, how exquisite it was to watch those soft, soft lips just barely start to bruise. The frown grew. He'd kissed him hard enough to bruise? Shit! Completely ignoring Remus' question, Sirius reached out, cupping his friend's chin in his hand to run a thumb gently over his friend's swollen lower lip. "Didn't mean to hurt you," Sirius murmured.

Something in Remus' startled expression softened, and when he pulled away from Sirius' touch, he did so slowly, not jerking away as instinct suddenly demanded him to. "You usually don't," Remus whispered back. Sirius usually did have good intentions, but all too often, his antics injured someone, and through it all Padfoot was always confused as to what the problem was, as to why not everyone could laugh at life like he could. Such honesty seemed as though it befitted the moment, and so Remus spoke his mind in replying.

Sirius, however, looked a bit injured. "When have I hurt you?" he demanded, the aura of hungry-predator gone in an instant to be replaced by indignation. Remus couldn't answer that question, not without further wounding his friend, and so just shook his head. That really didn't seem to make Sirius feel too much better, because the dark looked darkened further, and the black-haired boy sat back, a frown on his expressive, handsome face. For one ridiculous moment, Remus thought he heard Twilight Zone music going on behind him. Here they were, in the strangest situation... ever, and here was Sirius, being impeccably himself. It was a strange sort of solid, though, to know that no matter how weird things got, that Sirius could always be trusted to tell the world to go fuck itself.

Shaking such random thoughts from his head, Remus resolved to not let Sirius get angry at him. Sirius didn't hold a grudge for long, but when he did hold it... watch out. Remus himself was usually too forgiving for grudges on a whole, but he knew Sirius all too well. "Not like that, but... you don't think before you speak, Sirius, and sometimes you hurt people without meaning to," the werewolf said softly, twisting his hands together in his lap, Astronomy essay quite forgotten. Had Sirius paused to think about it, he would have realized that his goal of being the sole focus of Remus' attention had been achieved, but right now he was a little too hurt to be thinking about that.

"I've never meant to hurt you, Moony," Sirius said, with a distinct hint of pitiful-puppy-whimper to his tone. It made Remus sigh again.

"I know," the werewolf assured him. "And I've never meant to hurt you. Let's keep it that way?" Remus asked hopefully, on some level wishing that they could just pretend none of this had happened, that Sirius had never looked at him like that, or... kissed him. Yuck.

Sirius seemed to consider this, tilting his head as he gazed thoughtfully at Remus, at the pleading light in those golden eyes. Again a tendril of thought whispered to him of how much more lovely that begging expression would be if it were there for another reason entirely, but Sirius brushed it back. "You couldn't hurt me if you tried," Sirius finally said, a slow smile curving his lips. Remus looked quite startled. As long as he'd known James and Sirius, they'd never been afraid of him, even when they'd found out he was a werewolf, but to hear Sirius, with such confidence in Remus' control...

"You wouldn't try," Sirius continued, oblivious, "because you value me as a friend too much to ever -dream- of doing something to alienate me. Because if you lose me, you lose James, and vice versa, and Peter follows James wherever he goes, and I know for a fact we're your only real friends, me'n Jamie and Petey. So after a while it comes down to, does Sirius annoy me -soooo- much that it's worth getting rid of him altogether to be an ass? And the answer is always no, because to you, it's just not worth the conflict. Nothing is worth the conflict to you." There was a rather wicked smile on Sirius' face, and again Remus looked as though he'd been force-fed a lemon taped to a brick. Damnit, Remus HATED when Sirius did that. The other boy had this uncanny ability to psychoanalyze you, to pick apart your deepest fears with just a couple of words, and it wouldn't have been so bad if he didn't use is as a sort of weapon. Honestly, sometimes Remus wondered if Sirius hadn't manipulated the Hat into putting him into Gryffindor, because that wicked slyness was pure Slytherin. Then again, Sirius had about as much ambition as a toaster oven, so Slytherin wasn't quite his barrel of fish either. And the Hat couldn't be -that- trustworthy, not if Remus himself had somehow managed to end up somewhere other than Ravenclaw. But these were old, well-worn paths of thought, nothing compared to the canyon of shock generated by Sirius' brash words, and Remus shook them away like a puppy shaking water from its fur.

"You're an -arse-," Remus informed Sirius, who seemed a bit surprised. Sirius had been waiting for a reply of some sort, but that hadn't been the one he'd wanted, and he frowned.

"What do you mean, I'm an arse?" Sirius wanted to know, propping a hand on his hip. It almost made Remus laugh, in a hysterical sort of way, to see him like that, like an indignant housewife. There was Sirius, oblivious as always to how deeply his words cut, oblivious to how much harm he caused with his little games.

"I mean you're a right prig, up there with Malfoy and," Remus paused before saying the hated name, "Snape."

Sirius gawked at him for a moment, completely stunned. "Now, mate, that's really low," he protested. Likened to those Slytherin gits! How could Moony betray him so?! Such thoughts were blasphemous on their own, but to accuse him of it to his face... it stung. He'd tried so hard to get away from his family's legacy of being dark wizards, to distance himself from the slimy Slytherin gits, and here was one of his best friends, calling him just as bad as they. That -stung-. Especially as he could tell that Remus wasn't just teasing him like they always teased each other; no, Moony was serious.

"Well, when you want to be an arse, you're the best arse around," Remus said, biting at his lip and trying to shrug inconsequentially, to brush it off. But those words seemed to hit Sirius ever deeper, and real pain flashed across Padfoot's handsome features before he grinned a little too broadly.

"'Course I'm the best arse around. S'why everyone -wants- this arse," Sirius preened.

Remus just snorted. "You keep telling yourself that," he said dryly, shaking his head, very, very relieved that Sirius had chosen to make light of it. The tension still hung between them, but not quite as thickly; more like clouds in the morning that promised raging thunderstorms later. Remus' proverbial hackles were still raised; he knew he'd pressed a few of Sirius' buttons, and he knew how little Sirius liked to have his buttons pushed. But Sirius seemed to have already completely dismissed the issue.

"You're just jealous that you'll never have an arse like this," Sirius laughed, flopping back onto Remus' pillows and dragging the other boy with him.

"An arse like what, a lopsided pumpkin?" Remus snorted, unable to keep his balance as he tumbled back, hauled down by Sirius. Some little part of his brain told him that that would be his downfall, being dragged down by Sirius, but he ignored it; he'd gotten better at that since meeting the other Marauders.

Sirius had to laugh. "You're the lopsided pumpkin, mate. This arse is lusted after by everyone in this school, and you know it."

At that, Remus lifted an eyebrow. "Everyone?" he inquired archly. "Somehow, I doubt Jamie lusts after your arse, and I know I certainly don't. Not sure I can say the same for Peter..."

Sirius made a face. "Dear gods, please spare me the mental image, I've been scarred enough by Jamie forever ranting about that Evans girl. And don't fool with me, Moony, we both know you want me." This was accompanied by a wink. To all appearances, Sirius was being completely ridiculous, acting as always, but something told Remus there was more to it. Perhaps it was the lingering soreness of his lips that said yes, Sirius -did- want him.

"I'm not so sure about that," Remus said slowly, turning until he could look Sirius in the eye.

"'Course you're not, but you can't knock it til you've tried it, right?" Sirius grinned, the wistful note in his tone quite audible.

Remus winced; this would be hard. Nigh impossible, really. "I can too knock it," he told Sirius. "I don't mean to be rude, Sirius, but I'm not interested. Really, with all those boys and girls lusting after your ass, surely there are dozens far more lovely and far more willing than I."

Sirius seemed to consider this, a slight frown creasing his brow. "That's ridiculous," he finally said.

"Why?" Remus had to ask, knowing that Sirius wouldn't answer unless prompted.

"Because there's no such thing as more lovely than you," Sirius said, looking pleased with this answer, but Remus only looked disturbed. That didn't sound like a desire for experimentation, that sounded like love. Or possibly obsession. This really wasn't kosher, and Remus had no idea of what to do.

"Sirius..." the werewolf started, then stopped, aware of the incredible intensity of Sirius' full force stormy-sky gaze. "Sirius, I'm not... I don't like boys," he said haltingly, feeling quite ridiculous telling Sirius this, watching as his best friend's expression grew darker and more forbidding. "I mean, you're a great friend and all, but..."

Whatever he might have been about to say was overtaken by a little 'eep!' as Sirius rolled on top of him. Oh, this wasn't cool, not at all, especially as Sirius didn't look angry. No, he just looked hungry, like he had before, and Remus recognized that expression; it was one he himself usually had on a day before the full moon when presented with a bloody steak. That was an expression that promised darkness and consumption. Opening his mouth to speak, he was quickly silenced by another of those hard kisses. This time, though, it was deeper. It was the feel of Sirius' tongue against his own that woke him from his stunned state, and he began to struggle. Usually, this wouldn't have been much of an issue, but Sirius was pretty strong from plenty of Quidditch practice, and he was still weak from the full moon earlier that week.

"Sirius, don't," Remus protested, most of it lost in the harsh slant of Sirius' lips on his. The other boy was incredibly warm on top of him, burning Remus through their robes, and he tried to wriggle his way free, but to no avail. He -really- didn't want to just kick Sirius; the other boy had been right when he'd said that Remus valued their friendship too much to hurt Sirius - or deny him anything. So when Sirius sat up and growled, Remus shut his eyes and stopped struggling. Hopefully, Sirius would take pause, and when nothing else happened, Remus chanced to open his eyes again.

Sirius was right where he had been, perched atop Remus and straddling his hips, hands on the smaller boy's shoulders as he stared down at the werewolf. "Don't you trust me, Moony? I won't hurt you, even by accident," he said reassuringly, but it only worked to further wound Remus, who was already quite hurt on the inside.

"I do trust you, Sirius," Remus nodded, shifting and trying to sit up, but Sirius' grip tightened, keeping him where he was. "But I don't -like- you, not like that. Please let me up."

Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say, as Sirius frowned. Damnit, this wasn't supposed to go like this. Remus was supposed to declare undying, passionate love. He was supposed to kiss back. Shit, he'd done something wrong, messed up his chances. There was only one way to redeem himself.

"Please, Moony, let me show you," Sirius breathed, and let go of Remus' wrists to put fingers to the hem of his robes and shove them up. "I won't hurt you, I'll make it feel good, you can forget I'm a boy and everything..." For a moment Remus was too filled with dread to react to this, but shortly he began to struggle again as Sirius' long, agile fingers made short work of the button to his jeans.

"Sirius, -don't-," Remus said again, real panic starting to fill him as Sirius yanked down his pants and boxers. Why couldn't he get up? Why was his -wand- out of reach?! Stupid Astronomy essay, not needing a wand. That thought passed frantically through his mind. He didn't want to be raped by Sirius, he really didn't. But apparently Sirius had something else in mind, because a hot hand wrapped around a certain highly sensitive portion of his anatomy.

"Don't? Don't what? Don't make you feel good? You don't need to be afraid," Sirius soothed, catching Remus' flailing hands as he stroked the other boy firmly. In spite of himself, Remus began to get hard under the touch, and his protests turned to strangled sobs as he struggled to free himself from Sirius' wicked touch and his own traitorous body. But Sirius was male himself, and knew what felt good, and knew just what to do to Remus to make him writhe. It shouldn't have felt good, it was another boy touching him, he didn't WANT this, and yet he was hard, so hard, and he would give insoon, and he didn't know if he should hate Sirius or himself. He just wanted it to -stop-.

Sirius didn't seem about to stop, though, instead staring down at Remus with a twisted fascination painted over his face. Remus was so beautiful all stretched out like that, hard in Sirius' hand, hips arching first into the touch, then away as Remus fought the thrill of pleasure. Books and papers flew to the floor as Reus thrashed. Sirius wasn't going to let him get away, though, not now. It was too incredible, to see him so, to see the boy who always seemed calm and reserved lose it, to cry. Had Sirius been thinking a little... straighter, he might have realized that making Remus cry was a bad thing, but right then it only made the werewolf more beautiful. There was a thrill in having one of the most vicious creatures of the wizarding world under your hands, sobbing and begging for mercy. It was power, it was control, and in that moment Sirius was high on it, so high, and things like morals and sanity where left right where they belonged, down in the dirt.

It didn't take long for Sirius to make Remus come like that; he was a teenaged boy, hormone ridden, and the touch was skilled and thorough. Sirius soaked in every desperate plea for freedom and just watched as that lithe body bent, arching off the bed in climax, and he milked Remus for all he had to give, fascinated by the convulsions of the whimpering werewolf. Remus slumped, panting, tears still streaming down his cheeks, and Sirius let him go, as he was in no condition to run anywhere.

"See, that felt good, didn't it?" Sirius inquired, smiling down at Remus fondly. The werewolf wanted nothing more than to be violently ill right then, his clouded gaze moving from Sirius' face to the uplifted hand that had just... Gods, he'd been halfway raped, and he'd liked it. What was wrong with him?! What was wrong with -Sirius-? A choked whimper escaped Remus, and he shoved at Sirius.

Sirius tilted his head, frowning. "Oh, don't be such a baby," he scolded, as though nothing were wrong, as though he hadn't just held Remus to a bed and jerked him off. Sliding off the bed, he padded toward the bathroom. "I'm going to go wash this off. You might want to fix yourself up before Jamie or Petey come in," he advised helpfully, and then he was gone, ducking out the door to the Gryffindor boys' showers.

Remus watched him go with a torn expression, slowly realizing that he was shaking. A final little sob escaped him, and he tugged his robes down, lacking the energy to do anything more. His eyes were drawn to one of the few books that had survived the fracas, open on the bed before him. The legend of the Pleiades, sisters placed in the sky to be safe from the hunter and the bear that wished to ravage them. It almost made him laugh, hysteria bubbling up as he stared down at the page. Where were the gods to save abused werewolves, then? He somehow suspected he would never be plucked up from the world and turned into a star. That was a refuge reserved for those who deserved it, and he hardly deserved it.

He lay there for a long time, half wondering if Sirius would return, or if Jamie would come in, or perhaps Peter, and ask him what was wrong, or if he was done and wanted to go to dinner. Idly, he wondered what he would tell them. The answer to that question was resolved when James did indeed stick his head into the room.

"Hey, Moony! You done yet? Won't be any supper left if you don't hurry," the star of Gryffindor informed him as he stepped into the room. Then he took in the mussed sheets, Remus' sprawled, disconnected state, and the books and papers all over. "What happened in here? Looks like a tornado hit," he quipped, smiling as he reached his friend's bedside and started scooping up scrolls and star-charts.

"No, just a Sirius," Remus heard himself say, as is from a great distance. And in that moment, he knew Sirius was right, that he valued his friends too much to do anything to alienate them. He sat up, helped James toss all the papers back onto the bed, and went to dinner with his friend as though nothing had ever happened.

Some things just weren't worth the conflict.

* * *

sin sin


End file.
